Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
the Mind of Man-- My haunt, and the main region of my song.
William Wordsworth
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
William Wordsworth
Age: 80 †
Born: 1770
Born: April 7
Died: 1850
Died: April 23
Lyricist
Poet
Cockermouth
Cumbria
Wordsworth
Song
Mind
Men
Haunt
Thinking
Region
Humankind
Thoughtful
Regions
Main
More quotes by William Wordsworth
Truths that wake To perish never
William Wordsworth
We murder to dissect.
William Wordsworth
How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
William Wordsworth
To be a Prodigal's favourite,-then, worse truth, A Miser's pensioner,-behold our lot!
William Wordsworth
The first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
William Wordsworth
Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.
William Wordsworth
Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.
William Wordsworth
I'm not talking about a show me other walls of this thing button, I mean a stumble button for wallbase.
William Wordsworth
Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all
William Wordsworth
my brain Worked with a dim and undetermined sense Of unknown modes of being o'er my thoughts There hung a darkness, call it solitude Or blank desertion.
William Wordsworth
Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect
William Wordsworth
My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake me as they pass, I question things and do not find, one that will answer to my mind, And all the world appears unkind.
William Wordsworth
Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.
William Wordsworth
The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.
William Wordsworth
Yet sometimes, when the secret cup Of still and serious thought went round, It seemed as if he drank it up, He felt with spirit so profound.
William Wordsworth
Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.
William Wordsworth
For by superior energies more strict affiance in each other faith more firm in their unhallowed principles, the bad have fairly earned a victory over the weak, the vacillating, inconsistent good.
William Wordsworth
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: We murder to dissect.
William Wordsworth
O joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive!
William Wordsworth
Stop thinking for once in your life!
William Wordsworth
